Dear "You"...From "Me"-Letters Unsent

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I love you but do not really like you, especially lately. You are often quite mean to me in ways that you dont understand. I have been begging, pleading, asking, telling you to read anything about who and what i am. I understand you are a business owner and are quite busy. We each have 24 hours aday, and know how many seconds. I do sooo much for you and our business. I do not expect thanks but do not be mean to me. If i punched you in the face, it would hurt, if i accidently punched you in the face, it would hurt. I hve told you soo many times how words and body language speak to me a bit different.

My last attempt at explaining being in the Spectrum, she says" how is that possible" ret*d, I said how the heck do i know but i am not a ghost. i am very fit father and husband. I sure wish my my wife would hear me instead of just listening.

by the way, at night in the bedroom in the dark, if you are having fun please stop asking me to "come on" i dont know what that means. come where

Dear Nurylon,

you are not as honest as you think, and you are not as loyal as you think either. If you were so loyal, the first thing you would do when you woke up would be call your son. If you were so honest... well...


Love,

Nurylon

Dear Mother:

I would greatly appreciate if you would STOP HITTING ME. I don't give a dang that it doesn't hurt, but it's flipping annoying/humiliating the way you slap me upside the head like I'm some dog or insect.

Just because I LIKE to feed the baby applesauce doesn't mean you can leave her with me all the day when I have schoolwork, and then take all the credit/money when her mom picks her up.

And THANKS SOOO MUCH for believing me last weekend and NOT taking your moronic husband's word for everything. You honestly think I would call my brother a ret*d? After all the times you and your husband and half the people at school call me that daily? I know it freaking stings like all heck, and you think I would call him that?! Your husband's a freaking LIAR, and you ALWAYS take his word.

Why are you letting a three year old run the house? It's all your fault Lindsey left us! You're lucky she didn't report anything that happens here, or your favorite punching bag would be on her way to the saftey of West Virginia. Grow a flipping spine and stand up for yourself against your son and husband! They shouldn't be bossing you around like you're some wench.

You married a complete jerk. You think I LIKE it when he takes away my phone and harrasses my friends? You think I like it when he says all my friends are idiots, ret*ds, Satan, evil and I'm not allowed to associate with them?? Surprise! I don't. I also don't like him calling you and I pigs, liars, ret*ds and other fun names.

Screw what your husband thinks. I've broken hearts countless times thanks to him. I've ditched my friends because of him. I am done. I no longer give a darn. My best friend is not "Satan" and my exboyfriend is not a loser. At least HE cared about me, stuck with me through my issues and didn't have to put others down to feel good about himself.

I know that you think he's some perfect saint, but stop writing that dang novel in his voice! One more fragmented sentence and I think I'm going to lose my mind! You want me to edit your novel? Fine, but start actually writing like you're an independent person. Speaking of which, thanks for making me the stupid idiot who screws up the lives of everyone else in your book.

I am not out to get you! How selfish are you that you think I live to make you miserable? I understand you're in pain and stressed, but that doesn't mean you can take out all your pent up rage on me. And I'm sick of you treating me like a psychopath, demon child, spoiled cretin or some other nasty creature. You have accused me of having homicidal thoughts!

I have depresion, severe anxiety, a sleep disorder, OCD and Aspergers. Sorry that I don't find Paul "poking fun at me" funny. Sorry I don't understand his sarcasm. Sorry I can't make jokes. Sorry I don't like picking up insects and talking to strangers. Sorry I'm literally sick and tired all day. Sorry I had an eating disorder, have suicidal thoughts, want to run away, hate my life and have to call the Teen Help Line weekly. It must be SO hard having to deal with me and all my pesky little issues when really the only on that matters is my brother's autism. The world revolves around him, don't it?!

I am not lazy, fat, a slob, "just as bad/worse than [my] father", evil, an animal, heartless, "not human", an idiot, a ret*d, stupid or even purposely acting like anything above or anything else you and your husband call me. Maybe if you would stop worshipping the men of the house and started spending more time with me outside of ordering/beating/yelling at me you'd know who I am. I don't even know who YOU are anymore.

Sincerely,
The Goat Child


Why do you hate me so much?

KP
I once thought I was able
only to find I was not so capable
my life full of numbness
arose from the darkness
cleared of all that had plagued

Wake up, looking around
trying to find the sweetest sound
my thoughts went
to the time we spent
and the nights that together we played

The memories we'd made
hoping time would not fade
my feelings of such
which there were much
Let me cherish
before I perish
a life that could have been saved.
-MXH

Needs a bit more polishing.

Dear mom: If I want to be different, it's only because I have to.
Because you seem to want me normal very much.

Dear you,

I complicate things so much but the straight truth is right now I miss you, being around you almost 24/7 for a week was addictive even if at times I was definetly a 3rd wheel. I wish you thought I was good looking and that I was more confident around you. Even if its better to stay friends I wish we could be more but it wouldnt work. I still wish I wasnt quite so invisible with other girls around. But I am ridiculously happy you aren't unintentionally ignoring me now.

Hugs

Me

Dear CockneyRebel,

I'm proud of the changes that you've made. The 60s suit you a lot better than the 70s did. I'm glad that you went back to your older, original ways.

CR

Dear Jerk,

I know you planned that. Thank you for causing so much pain. I may learn to smile around you for her sake but I will always know. And you will always know that I know. Somehow that is satisfying.

Me

To the people who don't understand me:

You try to silence me and you try to modify my posting style. The young people want to get rid of the Misfit. The Kinks are a part of my identity. An attack on The Kinks, is an attack on my identity and my strong personality. I'm not going to hold my breath, waiting for an apology from any of you. You tried to scare me into shutting up about the thing that matters the most and you tried to get rid of me. You made me want to do two things, due to my rebellious nature. You made me want to spend even more hours here and you're making me want to post even more about The Kinks. You tried to make me more of an NT and you failed. Congratulations! I have three awards that I'd like to give out.

The person who isn't named CockneyRebel, for nothing

Dear People who hate people who are different,

f**k YOU ALL! I hope someone says the same about you whenever you travel.

-Random Different Person

Dear You,

You will never be me. This is mainly because you are you. I have no idea why you want to be me. I mean, I understand how you could want my life but why would you copy what I do? Why would you intrude? Why wouldn't being yourself be good enough in your estimation? You have a RN degree and you're thinner than me. Do you really have to lie about me to people, do all this parental alienation and copy everything that I do? You're a natural blond and you dyed your hair red. Are you crazy? Everything you do makes you look more obvious and crazy to the school and to my daughter. Nobody likes you except your husband, his father and his brother's wife. That's it. The rest are avidly trying to figure out exactly what is wrong with you. Why are you like this? Just parent your own kids. You're a STEP parent and, yes, no matter what you believe, there are "steps" in Heaven, if one is lucky enough to go and I'm not sure your shenanigans will permit entrance; that's for God to decide. So how about you be you and lay off trying to be me. Me being me is enough for the world.

From:
Me.

PS: That music talent she's got and that singing voice? That comes from me, not her father. He can't sing for crap and the songs he tries to write are wretched. He can't even play an instrument, everything is that stupid computer software. Nobody is honest enough to tell him the truth. My daughter can sing, play and write, just like her mama. Just because I lost myself when I sold my guitar for rent (sacrifice) and stopped playing and singing for a number of years, doesn't mean my daughter doesn't know the truth when I pick up a random guitar and start playing and singing on the spot. Ask her. She'll set you and everyone else straight. She knows who her mama is.

PPS: Both my daughter and I sing better than you. Stay in the karaoke bar. You're flat.

Dear Everybody,

Sometimes I'm allowed to delete a double post, other times I'm not. Weird. But this was a double post so I've edited it to tell you as much.

From,
Me.

dear cousin,
why'd you say you feel the same way about me instead of i love you when i came out? i don't know what that means. and why did you avoid eye contact when you said it.
from me.

Dear residents of this f*cked up, cruel, narrow minded, misogynistic, stupid, self-centered, fascistic, nationalistic and all in all pretty screwed up country*, where arrogance means intelligence and kindness equals stupidity, if I ever manage to get out of this effing place I'll make sure I forget everything about it, including language and so called "culture". I'll use the brain bleach if needed.

Thank you for listening.

Sincerely not wanting to belong here in any possible way,
Booyakasha


*to avoid any possible confusion, I'm referring to my homeland.

Dear Captain don't-remember-your-name,

Who the hell told you you were qualified to run a Ground Team School? You didn't have a clue. Please, try writing your schedule in advance next time so you're not constantly making up impromptu knot tying classes. And you need to lose your case of Irritable Marine Syndrome. It hurts. And that goes for that Lieutenant Castro too. "Pain is weakness leaving the body" isn't a Civil Air Patrol motto. That's for training Marines to kill, not training kid's like us to find downed aircraft. If I want to pass out in a push up-flutter kick-run three miles work out, I'll join the Marines.

And why don't you give the accused a damn trial before you beat on the rest of us? The kid's lighter happened to be in his pack, he didn't bring it to cheat during your sh1tty fire starter class. But no. You assume crap and make us do push ups.

Try reading the "Are you a leader, or a boss?" metaphor at the end of Chapter 3 in your leadership book. You'll apply to the latter. Get a clue, Captain & Lieutenant.

-C/MSgt Ian K.

Dear Dr Malcolm,

Thanks for all your effort in helping me stay alive,

Me.

Dear Dr De haar,

I hope your okay, I miss you,

Me.

Dear Best friends,

Its okay, that we aren't in touch, im okay I hope you are too,

Me.

Dear Dad,

When will you realise that we dont need money.

Me